A Guardian's Role
by ZebraViola
Summary: Things don't always run smoothly between the Kaiba brothers, and Seto contemplates his role as Mokuba's guardian.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh or any of its characters.

* * *

Sitting on his bed, Seto Kaiba exhaled in relief as he rolled his neck back to work out its kinks. His neck was sore from being hunched over his laptop in a rare show of bad posture, but he had to admit, it was worth it. Normally, he spent his late hours at the office, so for a change of scenery, he decided to bring his work home for a weekday night. After doing his work in the comfort of his own home and pajamas, he wondered why he didn't do this more often. Looking at his bedside clock, Seto was surprised to find that it already read 11:19. He had worked for about five hours straight. He set his laptop aside and got off his bed to stretch his legs and take a short break.

He headed down the hall towards the kitchen. His brother Mokuba's room was on the same hall further down, and when it came into view, he realized that he hadn't seen his brother all day. Seto thought. He came home around 6:00, and Mokuba had still been out at… Seto couldn't remember where his brother went after school, but he knew it was some club meeting. Come to think of it, Seto realized, he hadn't seen much of Mokuba at all recently. Kaiba Corp's new project took so much of his time at the office that he usually only saw the ten-year-old during breakfast. Seto felt a little proud that his brother was so independent he didn't need to be constantly looked after.

But as he walked closer to Mokuba's door he frowned. Yellow light spilled from the space under the door, and he could hear the low volume of music. With a furrowed brow, he rapped twice on the door before opening it.

"Mokuba?" he said, and his younger brother's head jerked toward him. The young boy was lying on his stomach on his bed, and his hands held a video game controller as he faced the TV. The music Seto had heard was the background music to a new fighting game called Battle Man. It was vastly inferior to anything Kaiba Corp would produce, but it had become increasingly popular among younger children, anyway. Including his brother, it seemed.

"Uh, Seto!" Mokuba exclaimed, looking surprised. "I didn't know you were up."

"That's my line!" Seto snapped. "Get in your pajamas and get into bed. You have school in the morning, you know better than this!" He waited until Mokuba mumbled an "okay" before leaving and closing the door behind him.

Continuing on his way to the kitchen, Seto felt a little annoyed that Mokuba would break an unspoken yet obvious rule, but he figured the problem was over. Changing his mind about getting a snack, he settled for having a glass of water before heading back to his room. But as he passed Mokuba's room again, he noticed that the lights where still on.

"Mokuba!" he exclaimed as he swung the door open without knocking. Mokuba turned his head to look at him. "I told you to turn that off!"

"I just wanted to finish this last round," Mokuba explained.

"I don't care about that! When I tell you to do something, you need to do it," Seto told him firmly.

"Fine," Mokuba sighed, and Seto left his brother's room for the second time that night before heading back to his own.

As Seto settled back down in his bed to get a little bit more work done before going to sleep himself, he couldn't help but feel hurt. His little brother had always looked up to him, done what he said. Mokuba's undying devotion and loyalty was the one thing he thought he could always count on, and to have that slipping from his grasp left him feeling oddly… vulnerable. A thought occurred to him that his brother had defied him twice already, so he should check one more time to make sure he was in bed. Standing up once more, Seto headed to his brother's room. His jaw clenched when he saw the lights were still on, and he barged into Mokuba's room for the third time that night.

"Mokuba!" he barked in anger and disbelief at his brother's audacity. "This is the third time I've had to come up here! Why is that game still on?" Mokuba hunkered down slightly at the sharp tone, but he didn't even take his gaze away from the TV.

"You're not my dad, you know," he muttered. But his under-the-breath words weren't quite as hushed as he may have wanted. One second he was button-mashing the controller trying to get Battle Man to do an uppercut combo, the next second the controller was yanked out of his hands and he was staring at the grains of the carpet from his new position over his brother's lap.

"Seto! Wha- augh!" he cried when something painfully collided with his backside. He shot a horrified look over his shoulder, and saw it was as he feared. His heart began to pound when he saw Seto angrily raise his hand again and had just enough time to wince before his older brother brought his hand back down against his upturned bottom. This time the powerful sting brought tears to his eyes. He started to squirm. "Seto!" he pleaded as he tried to get up, but his brother's arm across his back held him down resolutely. Mokuba's tears turned into full sobs as blow after stinging blow fell across his rear. Altogether, they totaled about ten, and when Seto was finished he set Mokuba on the bed and stood up without a word. As his little brother sobbed into his pillow, he marched over to the still running game console and ripped it angrily out of the TV before stomping out of the room, turning the lights off and shutting the door behind him.

When Seto got to his room, he contemplated slamming the stupid game into the trash can, but he forced himself to take a deep breath and ended up just sliding it under his bed where it was out of sight. That done, he sat down on the edge of his bed and closed his eyes as he steepled his hands under his chin, replaying the night in his head.

He started to feel slightly embarrassed. He had just spanked his little brother, something that he had never thought he would actually do. What had Mokuba said right before it happened? "You're not my dad." But that was wrong, in a way. Ever since they were left at the orphanage, Seto had decided he would play the role of the father Mokuba never had. And sometimes a father disciplines his kids.

Still, Seto thought that part of this was his fault. If he was going to play father to Mokuba, he shouldn't have vanished from the kid's life like he had for the past few months. Mokuba was only ten, he needed someone to be with and raise him, not leave him on his own and assume everything would fall into place. But, no matter the case, it was time to have a talk with his little brother, and he figured sooner would be better than later.

When he knocked on Mokuba's door (this time, the lights were off and no noise came from inside) he didn't get an answer, but he opened the door slowly and stepped inside anyway. The light from the hallway was enough to guide Seto through the darkened room until he stood by Mokuba's bed. He gazed down at his brother's face-down still form and heard that his breathing was still short and irregular, not deep and even like it would be if he were sleeping, so he sat down at the edge of the bed.

"Mokuba," he said softly as he placed a hand on his brother's back, "We need to talk." Mokuba didn't say anything, but Seto felt his body stiffen. "Come on, sit up." Mokuba did so reluctanty and sat up to face him while Seto switched on the lamp resting on the nearby end table. The new light allowed him to see that Mokuba's eyes were still slightly red from crying, but he steered himself away from feeling guilty.

"What did you do that for, Seto?" Mokuba surprised him by demanding first. Seto was inwardly grateful – it saved him from having to come up with an opening to the awkward conversation himself.

"Because, Mokuba," he began to answer slowly, "I may not biologically be your father, but I am your guardian. It's my job to take care of you, make sure you're doing what you're supposed - "

"I've been taking care of myself just fine!" Mokuba interjected with a teary glare.

"Staying up until midnight playing video games when you have school in the morning is not taking care of yourself!" Seto snapped. "As I was saying, it's my job to take care of you, and I haven't been doing that lately." He paused. "I'm sorry."

"Seto?"

"Look, Mokuba. Just because we don't have a traditional family doesn't mean you don't have anyone to answer to. I know I've given you that idea because I haven't been around much, but that's going to change. I'm going to take my role as your guardian a lot more seriously – that means when I tell you to do something – like go to bed – you need to do it. Otherwise, there will be consequences." Mokuba blinked.

"Like… what you did tonight?" he asked lowly.

"If I think it's necessary, yes," Seto answered firmly. He waited, expecting angry protests, but none came. Instead, Mokuba sniffed, and Seto hoped there would be no more tears.

"I'm sorry, Seto, for not listening to you," he said, his voice trembling a bit. "Are you still mad at me?"

"No," Seto assured, and he held out his arms to have Mokuba scramble into them. He missed this, he realized as his chin rested on his brothers dark mass of hair. "I love you. And even though things are going to be different around here, I'm still your big brother. We can still have fun and talk about anything."

"I love you, too," Mokuba replied sleepily, and Seto took that at his cue to leave.

"Okay, it's bed time again," he said before giving Mokuba a brief peck on the forehead and guiding him back under the covers. "I'll see you in the morning." He switched off the lamp and left the room, feeling a lot better than he had when he came in.

When he got back to his room, he was now too physically and mentally tired to attempt any more work, so he shut down his laptop and got ready for bed himself. He didn't remember falling asleep, but the next thing he knew his bed was shaking as someone scrambled into it. The nostalgia hit him before he even fully awoke, and he rolled over and opened his arms instinctively to allow Mokuba to cuddle up close. They didn't bother to speak before they drifted off to sleep again – the comfort the two brothers had from just being close to each other was nothing that could be put into words.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh or any of it's characters.

And thank you for reading.

* * *

To his relief, things didn't change too much for Mokuba during the next month. The young boy had expected Seto to turn into a tamer version of their adoptive father Gozaburo, enforcing rigorous study rules and micro-managing his life, but his older brother didn't do much other than stay home more and make sure he ate right, did his homework, and went to bed on time. Mokuba had tested his brother early on by purposely staying out late one day when he was supposed to come straight home after school, and Mokuba had walked through the door to find Seto waiting for him. Without saying a word, Seto had pulled him over a bent knee and given him five swats right there in the entryway. So, Seto was serious, but he was still the same brother that played video games with him, let him help with the company, and didn't mind when Mokuba wanted an extra hug or two. Which is probably why Mokuba had mistakenly thought that if Seto ever found out he had been forging his signature, he wouldn't be too angry.

When Mokuba came home from his after school club one evening, he headed straight for his room. On the way, he passed by the closed doors of Seto's home office. He would have stopped in to greet his brother, but when he raised his hand to knock, he paused at the sound of his brother's voice – Seto was on the phone. Mokuba frowned. Pressing his ear against the door, he tried to hear the words, but the thick wood didn't allow him to make out anything but his brother's low timbre. And it sounded... angry. A sliver of worry poked into his mind, but he tried to mentally shrug it off. It was probably just an employee that made him mad, or a press issue he needed to deal with.

Once Mokuba was back in his room, he kicked off his shoes, flung his backpack into the corner of the room where it hit the wall with a heavy thud, and practically dove onto his bed, eager to start up his game console (which Seto had given back the morning after he had taken it away). Within minutes, the game (an RPG this time) had completely engrossed Mokuba to the point where he didn't even notice someone entering the room and shutting the door until the person spoke.

"I hope you've enjoyed that game, Mokuba," said his brother's cold voice. "You won't be playing it again for a long time." Mokuba dropped the controller in surprise and jerked his head to look at Seto, who was leaning against the wall, staring back at him in a way that made his heart beat fearfully faster.

"Uh, hi, what's up, Seto?" Mokuba stammered, knowing full well that Seto wasn't in here for a friendly conversation. Seto shrugged almost amiably and straightened from his position.

"Well, I got a call from your math teacher," he informed his little brother, who shut off his game without being told. He walked over to sit on the bed next to Mokuba, and for the first time, Mokuba instinctively scooted away instead of closer.

"My math teacher?" Mokuba repeated numbly, and as soon as he said the words, he remembered.

It had first happened months ago, when Mokuba had gotten his first progress report with a glaring "F" in math. All of the students had taken theirs home with the instructions to have it signed by a parent, but Mokuba had been too ashamed to show his to Seto. Seto had always made top grades in math, in _all _of his classes. How could Mokuba show him something as embarrassingly dismal as an "F"? So, that very night in his room, Mokuba had signed his brother's name in the designated line. He already knew his brother's signature by heart – he had seen it hundreds of times on business documents. Reproducing it was only a matter of practicing a few times on paper and doing it a final time on the report. It was easy. Physically, anyway. Mentally, he was a wreck. He had almost expected Seto to burst through the door, shouting, "What do you think you're doing, Mokuba?!", and as he tried to fall asleep that night, his pounding heart would jerk him back awake every time his brother passed by his door. The next morning, he hadn't fared much better. When he finally got to school and handed the progress report to his teacher, he imagined her instantly calling him out on it. Instead, she smiled and thanked him, and Mokuba's day went on as usual.

As did the next day, and the day after that, until finally, Mokuba realized he had actually gotten away with it. The guilt turned into glee, and Mokuba felt wise for not bothering his brother with something so trivial. Mokuba vowed to study harder so he wouldn't have to do it again, but the next month he ended up with another failing report. Forging his brother's signature with a lot less guilt, Mokuba turned the next report in with a cockiness that grew each time he signed it during the next several months. It had become so commonplace to him that it didn't even seem like a big deal anymore, even after Seto's recent declaration that he would be doing a lot more parenting. Now, sitting near an angry Seto, Mokuba realized how wrong he was.

"Yes," Seto repeated. "Your math teacher. She was very eager to talk to me." Seto gave Mokuba an expectant look.

"What about, Seto?" Mokuba whispered dutifully, plucking at his bed sheets.

"She wanted to set up a meeting. Even though you're currently failing math, there's still enough time in the school year for you to pull your grade up enough that you won't have to retake it next year, and she wanted to talk about ways I could help you."

"Oh."

"I told her," Seto continued, "that's ridiculous. You aren't failing math, and even if you were, you would have told me."

"...oh."

"And then, she faxed me these." Seto reached into his pocket and pulled out several folded up pieces of paper. Even before he unfolded them Mokuba knew what they were, but Mokuba looked at the copies of his progress reports anyway. "They're your progress reports, and they have my signature on them. Which is strange, because I know for a fact that I've never seen these before in my life. How do you suppose my signature got on these, Mokuba?" Mokuba's head hung low.

"I put them there," he sighed, and Seto set the papers aside and folded his arms.

"And why did you do that?" Seto asked in disappointment. The very sound of it brought water to Mokuba's eyes. All of a sudden, the guilt and shame that he experienced the first time rushed back at him. Of course his brother wouldn't like his signature being forged, he berated himself. Now, Seto was worse than angry. He was disappointed.

"I'm sorry, Seto," Mokuba said, embarrassed at the tears that choked his voice. He rubbed his eyes with his sleeve. "I just didn't want you to find out."

"Why not?" Seto asked in a genuinely confused voice. "I could have helped you." Mokuba shot him an incredulous look.

"Because!" he exclaimed. "Your grades were always perfect!" Mokuba looked down again. "I'm stupid. You would have been mad at me, like you are now."

"Mokuba! You are not stupid!" Seto snapped, and he reached out and lifted Mokuba's chin up so their eyes met. "And I am _not_ angry with you because you're not doing well in math. I'm upset and disappointed that you forged my signature, which is dishonest to both your teacher and me, and I'm not sure how much I can trust you now that I know you would even think of doing something like this."

"No, Seto, don't say that!" Mokuba suddenly cried, launching himself at his brother and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. If Seto felt incomplete without Mokuba's loyalty, then Mokuba felt incomplete without his brother's trust. Seto let Mokuba cry for a few seconds before gently pushing him back. Unfortunately for the both of them, Mokuba would be crying a lot more before the day was over, and he found no point in postponing it.

"Mokuba," he said gently. "You're a good kid, and I know you didn't do this maliciously, but this a lesson that I want to be sure you remember." Mokuba cringed.

"Seto, don't," he pleaded, but with a firm grip on his upper arm, Seto guided him face down over his knees. The elder brother wasted no time – as soon as Mokuba was in place, Seto brought his hand down on the seat of his brother's pants. This earned a single "Ow!" from Mokuba, which was the only word he was able to form as his brother started the spanking in earnest. Mokuba couldn't think too clearly from the pain, but it seemed to him that this time it was happening a lot faster and harder than the first time, and he couldn't even keep count. When it was over (it seemed like it took _ages _in Mokuba's mind) the young boy lay gasping and sobbing over his brother's lap until Seto pulled him up.

"Mokuba," he said firmly, "I expect better from you, and I expect you to be honest with me. You can always come to me if you need help and know that I won't look down on you. Don't do anything like this again, do you understand?" After Mokuba answered with frantic nodding of his head, Seto collected all of the boy's games and left to store them in his own room.

Seto didn't return until it was Mokuba's bed time and found that his little brother was already in bed – sleepy, but awake.

"Good night, Mokuba," he whispered, and was touched when Mokuba lifted up his forehead for his now expected good night kiss, which Seto fondly granted. "Please don't be afraid to come to me for anything again."

Before Seto left the room, he heard Mokuba's voice.

"Seto?" it said softly. "Thanks."

Later that night, both Seto and his little brother would be able to sleep in contentment. Seto may need Mokuba's loyalty, and Mokuba may need Seto's trust, but they both needed each other's love.


End file.
